From the outside, a five-person agency with a decade of client wins looks like solid ground. The roster was real. Logos built in the late 1990s were still in active use. Campaigns that won local awards were still being referenced by the organizations that commissioned them. Relationships that started with a handshake had turned into multi-year engagements. Silesky Marketing had built something that looked, from every angle, like momentum.
Then, in 2006, the agency closed.
What followed does not fit neatly into an origin narrative. No pivot announcement came. No press release dressed the closure up as a choice. Instead, the marketing agency rebuild that came next was quiet, unglamorous, and long. Part 2 of this series traced how a single hire and a referral network grew into that five-person operation. This piece covers what happened after the ground gave way, and what Susi Silesky chose to build on top of it.
When a Business You Built Stops
Five employees is not a number that sounds large. For a boutique agency that launched with no clients, no revenue, and no strategy in April 1996, it represented something significant. Each of those five people had attached their livelihood to work that Susi was generating. By the mid-2000s, the pressure of sustaining that had accumulated in ways that a referral-based, relationship-driven agency without outside funding is not always equipped to absorb.
No Announcement, No Pivot
There was no public statement. No reframe dressed up to make the closure sound like a choice. The business that had grown from a set of letterhead on a front stoop, through a sold piano and eight weeks in Costa Rica, through Jewish nonprofits and bulldog photo shoots and award-winning catering campaigns, stopped.
For Susi, the emotional weight of that moment was not abstract. She had built the agency by hand, hired people, sustained relationships, and delivered work that outlasted the clients who commissioned it. Closing was not a strategic reset. It was a loss.
The Decision to Keep Working Anyway
Between 2009 and 2016, Susi continued working as a freelancer under the name A&M Marketing, a reference to her children, Alex and Mya. The scale was smaller, the budget tighter, and the weight of sustaining the work fell entirely on her while she was also raising her family.
The Freelance Years
Going from a five-person operation to working solo strips away every layer of infrastructure a small agency builds over time. No creative partner to divide the problem with. No team to absorb a difficult client or a chaotic deadline. Just the work, the client relationships, and the discipline to show up for both without anything external holding the structure in place.
In the early years, Susi had described her own approach as winging it, building the structure while the work was already in motion. That approach got the agency off the ground, and it also showed its limits when the pressure intensified. The solo years made those limits specific. Strategy first, always, collaboratively with a team she trusted — those three commitments did not come from a curriculum or a consulting engagement. They came from watching what held and what gave way under pressure, then arriving at conclusions the hard way. The freelance period was not comfortable. It was clarifying.
What a Rebuild Looks Like From the Inside
A rebuild does not look like a relaunch event or a new logo. It looks like a long, quiet period of deciding what to keep and what to leave behind. Susi kept the relationships. The standard for work built to last stayed. So did the instinct for creative decisions that other people had not thought to make yet.
What changed was the architecture of how she worked. Less reactive. More deliberate. Grounded in strategy before execution, every time. By the time she was ready to relaunch, she was not trying to return to the agency she had closed. She was building a different one, shaped by everything the first version had cost her.
When Silesky Came Back, It Came Back Different
The Philosophy That Came Out of the Hard Years
Susi positions the current agency as the extra seats at the table, close enough to understand a client’s business from the inside, independent enough to see what the people inside it cannot.
That observation did not come from a marketing textbook. A founder who has been in that position, more than once, in more than one version of her own business, does not need to theorize about it.
In practice, the extra-seats model shows up in specific ways. Identifying the disconnect between a sales pitch and a landing page. Recognizing when a brand identity has outgrown the actual expertise behind it. Telling clients what the brand needs rather than what the client wants to hear. Those are not comfortable conversations. They are also the reason clients stay.














